maybe you just want to do your own thing and you've worked hard to get where you are...and you don't want anything to come in the way of your independence and career...so, your distancing yourself from him till you get things settled professionally and all

I don't want to get into details. But I had a very close friend and I erred her. She introduced me to Can't fight the moonlight, the song that later came close to defining me at a crucial point in my life. I learnt how to smoke a hookah from her and learnt to appreciate the true value of bonding over pizza and chick-flicks. I was narrow-minded when I met her. I was still living in the past when we became good friends. And I never really understood how much she meant to me. Time had bought us together and it took us apart. I let it happen. She let it happen because she thought that was what I wanted.

This spring, we bonded again. We were older. Wiser. We had forgotten (I think) what took us apart. And started talking again like we used to. Only, we never hung out. Because by then, we both had men in our lives. Men we were in love with. So the only time we spent together was in the bus - going to school and returning back from school. After graduation, she left the country forever and returned to her own. And now when I think back about my last semester at school, the brief 15 minute bus-rides with R come back to be, heavily, hungrily. After graduation, she left the country. I wasn't here to say goodbye. It felt, like a conversation had been halted and I didn't know where to pick it up from.

A few days back while traveling in the train, my mind ruminated over the past. And a shadow of guilt crept up my eyes and stayed there till my man asked me what was wrong. I told him how during freshman year I had busted out on R's bday. She had planned a trip to NY just for the two of us. A night at the Waldorf - we were going to eat at Serendipity and walk the drunken streets of New York, hand in hand.
And I was so stuck in my past that I called out the last minute to stay online with my friends back in India. I was so afraid to make that new memory that I thought I was cheating on the memories I had left behind.
I still remember the hurt, the anger and the disappointment in her voice.

Today I met her online. And I told her about my feelings. I apologized again. She had long forgotten about it. It relieved me. I am a woman of no regrets in life. I believe what has happened cannot be undone and hence is not worth mulling over. But I regret, not sorting out my mess and my life as a freshman. If I had, I would still have had those 3 precious years with R. Her friendship, I've won back. But the years I lost, are lost forever.

It is one of life's most learnt lesson and yet we never learn. We never know what we have till we've lost it. R wiped my tears when my boyfriend cheated on me. I stood by her when her the Aramark jerk broke her heart. She bought to my notice how disgusting piegons were-- especially how they walked, with their heads bobbing in four directions. I made her wear my lime green chiffon dress for garba and saw how pretty she looked in Indian garb. She told me that women who lose their virginity walk like ducks (and I remembered her words years later when I lost mine) Together, we watched porn in Statistics class, copied homework and cheated on exams. When I told her about my decision to quit business school and switch to journalism, she was the happiest for me. I took her with me to my uncle's place and made her a part of my family. She so gracefully welcomed them and made herself a part of us.
Even though I tout myself the writer, it was because of her I got an A in my Enlgish Comp 50 class. She wrote my final paper for me! Once I give leash to my memories, they keep coming, one after another. Each one, shining brighter than the one before. Each one, pushing, shoving to make it to the surface so I can write about it....

As I look back now, the year I spent with her, my first year at college was the best year of my college life.

And still, after all these years she said in 4 sentences what I haven't been able to admit to myself till now. She said that in context to my confusion about being in love but not wanting marriage and the works right now.

R had dedicated Judy Blum's "Summer Sisters," to me. Today I revive those memories and dedicate my freshman year to her. In an esoteric way, if not for her, I wouldn't have been who I am today.

I love you Rasha.